Secrets and passions are about to ignite!

Leaving LA was the best decision Vanessa Hamilton ever made. Becoming embroiled in a political scandal in her seaside hometown could be the worst. Bay Point mayor Gregory Langston wants the beautiful floral designer who is so committed to their community to help run his reelection campaign. It’s bad enough he’s planning to tear down the town’s legendary carousel—now Vanessa’s attraction to the charismatic homegrown politician is threatening to spiral out of control.

Women rarely say no to Gregory, and he’s intrigued by his spirited campaign manager. Falling for Vanessa is a potential powder keg, especially when he and the impassioned activist are on opposite sides of a controversial issue. But a vicious smear campaign and a long-hidden secret could destroy more than Gregory’s shot at a second term. Will it cost him forever with Vanessa?

“You must be joking.”

Her words came out clipped, but it felt like they were spoken through mud.

Gregory placed both palms on the counter. “I assure you, I’m not.”

Vanessa’s throat tightened almost painfully, and she could have drowned in the confident intensity of his hazel eyes.

“And I can assure you that I’m not interested.”

Gregory took a step back. “Really? I’m surprised. Your father told me that flowers aren’t your only talent. He said you also have a knack for public relations, and that you’ve been especially successful helping politicians in a crisis.”

Vanessa’s stomach burned with resentment. Her father had no business talking to the mayor about her, but she’d deal with him later.

In Gregory’s voice, she heard no trace of disdain, and that was good. There were only two people who knew the sordid details of her stint in political public relations, and that was the way it would remain. She was a pro at hiding the secrets of powerful and successful men, and even better at hiding her own.

Vanessa tilted her head. “Oh, so you’re admitting your reelection campaign is in trouble?”

“Not trouble,” he insisted, lifting one finger. “Just a bit of a rough spot.”

She broached a wry smile. “I’d say you’re at the top of a raging waterfall about to crash to the rocks below.”

Gregory leaned in closer. “I like to live dangerously,” he murmured in a low voice.

Dear Reader,

Winning Her Love is the first book of my Bay Point Confessions series, set in a fictional small California town.

Meet Mayor Gregory Langston. He must win another term in order to see his redevelopment plan for the city come to life.

And Vanessa Hamilton. She’s got a passion for flowers and the century-old Bay Point carousel. She agrees to help Gregory gain support from the locals when he promises not to demolish the carousel—if she can find a way to save it.

There’s something about a carousel that is magical. Unexplainable. Puts a smile on your face. Sometimes it’s so hard to choose the perfect horse to ride. They’re all so beautiful and so tempting. The same can be said of falling in love, right?

I hope you enjoy reading this book and that you’ll stay tuned for others in the series.

Be blessed,

Harmony

Harmony Evans

www.millsandboon.co.uk

HARMONY EVANS received the 2013 Romance Slam Jam Emma Award for Debut Author of the Year. Her first book, Lesson in Romance, garnered two RT Reviewers’ Choice Award nominations in 2012. Winning Her Love is her fifth book for Mills & Boon Kimani Romance. She currently resides in New York City. Connect with Harmony on Facebook, Twitter or at harmonyevans.com.

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To my daughter, Angelina. Meow! I miss you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Copyright

Chapter 1

Gregory Langston jutted his fists knuckles-down against the windowsill and stared outside. The sun was at the halfway point in the sky, hanging around the corner of dusk. It would be dark soon. If he was going to see Vanessa, he’d better go quickly, before she closed the shop for the evening.

He squinted involuntarily at the orange-red orb blazing away in the distance. The California sun was gloriously dangerous yet absolutely necessary to his survival, just like the risk he was about to take.

“I have to win,” he muttered fiercely under his breath.

Although he was only thirty years old, Gregory had achieved more than many men had in a lifetime. At age twenty-six, he became the youngest and the first African-American mayor in Bay Point, California. He’d won the esteemed position in a landslide victory four years earlier, an accomplishment of which he was extremely proud.

Now he was up for reelection. But this time victory would not come easily. His only rival in the mayoral race was making his campaign a living hell.

Jacob Billingsly “the Third and only,” as the man liked to put it, had lived in Bay Point for only a few years, yet acted as if he’d resided there his entire life. When Jacob had announced his plan to run for mayor, no one had been more shocked than Gregory, who had taken the young upstart under his wing and given him a paid internship as a mayoral clerk for two summers. When Jacob had graduated with an MBA from Stanford University, Gregory had given him a glowing reference for a potential employer in New York City. He’d even driven Jacob to the airport on what was supposed to be his last day in Bay Point.

As it turned out, Jacob never left, and now it seemed he spent most of his time spreading rumors and lies about Gregory and his plans for Bay Point.

The knot in his stomach tightened and Gregory closed his eyes, bracing for the pain, which was happening all too often lately.

Although Gregory would never admit it to anyone, he was scared he was going to lose his reelection bid. The thought that he might have made a mistake by choosing a career in politics kept him up night after night. Maybe he should have continued working in his father’s law firm instead of trying to fix the town that he loved more than anything.

His eyes drifted from the horizon to the storefronts and streets beneath his fourth-floor office. The traditional grid-like pattern appealed to his strong sense of order.

In its heyday, Bay Point was a hideaway for California’s rich and famous, particularly actors and actresses from Los Angeles who sought a temporary escape from a lifestyle that often demanded too much. The whimsical shops and cheery restaurants amid the sultry ocean breeze were a balm to their weary souls. The stars still journeyed to the town from time to time, but not enough to stir headlines or the attention of entertainment bloggers.

But now Bay Point, whose population was about ten thousand individuals of all races and ethnicities, was in serious trouble. Located on the beautiful Pacific coast between San Francisco and the Oregon border, the once-vibrant beach town had fallen on hard times in recent years. Many longtime residents had moved due to the recession and high unemployment rate. Newcomers were few and far between.

Gregory knew he needed to bring additional revenue into the area to attract new residents or, at the very least, tourists. And he needed to give the people already there a reason to stay. Redeveloping Bay Point’s quaint but aging downtown was the only way to begin to breathe new life into a town that was in danger of dying.

Gregory grimaced and stuck two fingers of his left hand inside his blue oxford shirt, attempting to massage away the painful knot beneath his rock-hard abdomen. The residents of Bay Point trusted Gregory to bring the town back to the prosperity it had once known. They had elected him into office, believing that he could enact lasting change. He couldn’t let them down, but the truth was, he was afraid he already had.

This morning he’d unveiled his plans to redevelop downtown Bay Point in the Bay Point Courier. The three-year project, which took about that much time to actually scope and plan, would bring much-needed jobs, new retail and new housing to the area.

He’d tried to keep many of the details under wraps as the plan was being solidified so that residents wouldn’t be alarmed. But Bay Point was a small town, and some folks just couldn’t keep their mouths shut. Now that all the details were in print, many weren’t happy.

To make way for the construction of a brand-new municipal complex, the project also included the demolition of the Bay Point Carousel. To Gregory’s surprise, this seemed to elicit the most unfavorable responses among his constituents. The phone had rung off the hook all day, and his inbox was flooded with angry emails.

“Not good,” he muttered.

He peered at the hundred-year-old carousel, located in the center of downtown, and wondered why it held such an appeal to everyone. He understood the structure’s historical significance. But it was a drain on the city’s budget, and it was almost always broken-down. It had to go.

Gregory withdrew his fingers from his shirt and cranked open the casement window. He needed the favor of Bay Point residents, but more important, he needed their votes in order to be elected to a second term as mayor. Somehow he had to get them back on his side. He had to make them see the beauty of his vision for the city. Tearing down the carousel would be a good thing. A new beginning.

He ran his hand down his face. Two knocks and a tap on the door jolted him from his thoughts.

“Come in,” he grunted.

The door opened. “Mayor Langston, is it all right if I leave for the day? My son has his first soccer practice tonight and—”

Mariella Vency, his executive assistant, was a single mother whose teenage son had a tendency to get into trouble. He knew that she was trying to encourage better behavior through participation in organized sports. They’d recently moved to Bay Point from Los Angeles, and the boy had few friends.

She paused and moved nearer. “Mayor Langston, are you okay?”

Gregory reluctantly turned around. “I’m fine.”

Her brows knitted together in concern. “Are you sure?”

He forced a smile, nodding. “We’ve had a couple of late nights lately. You deserve the night off.”

Mariella grinned and looked relieved. She was a pretty woman and, as far as he knew, unattached. But she wasn’t his type, and besides, he valued her too much as an employee—and valued his own reputation too much—to get involved romantically.

“Thanks, Mayor. I’ll just leave these phone messages on your desk.”

“A parting gift, Mariella? Thanks a lot,” he replied in a mock hurt tone, even though he knew it wasn’t her fault that all of a sudden he was the most hated man in Bay Point.

She gave him an apologetic smile and cast a worried glance outside. “You’d better leave soon, too. It’s clouding up out there.”

Gregory glanced over his shoulder and saw fat gray clouds stretching and rolling like rumpled sheets across the late-afternoon sky, just above the horizon.

“You’re right,” he said, turning back. “A storm is brewing.”

“I just hope the rain holds off for practice.”

He nodded again. “Have fun, and see you tomorrow.”

As soon as Mariella closed the door, Gregory cranked the window shut.

Still, he couldn’t take his eyes away from the sky. It could have been his imagination, but it seemed as though the sun gleamed brighter now, ever valiant against the dark clouds. He pressed his palm against the warm glass. The low heat of April was just a kiss of what was to come in a few months, but the light ocean breezes always evened out the hot summer days.

The weather was one of the things he loved most about living in California; the other was being mayor of Bay Point.

He couldn’t let anything, or anyone, screw up his plans for the city or for the carousel. People were entitled to their opinions, but the bottom line was that everyone knew things had to change in Bay Point, and he was the only one with the power to do it.

Gregory turned away from the window, slid his trademark black fedora on his head and quickly checked his appearance in the full-length mirror behind his office door.

The entire town was counting on him. He had no choice but to push aside his fears and trust Vanessa...a woman he barely knew.

Chapter 2

The bell on the door tinkled, and Vanessa’s head snapped up. No matter how she felt on a particular day, the merry sound always cheered her and made her smile. But when she saw who had entered her shop, her lips drooped into a frown.

In his entire term in office, Mayor Langston had never once set foot in her store. Why now? she wondered, her eyes narrowing.

He shut the door, looked about the room and wrinkled his nose.

Didn’t the man like flowers? she thought with dismay, watching him walk toward her.

She regarded him coolly while at the same time trying not to gawk. She had to admit that despite what she thought and felt about his politics, Gregory was as breathtaking as a drive down the Pacific coast.

His skin, burnished an even deeper brown from the California sun, held not a bit of shine. He wore a dark gray suit that looked as if it had leaped from the hanger right onto him. It was so clean and perfectly tailored. And though she knew he wasn’t much older than she was, he oozed the wisdom and class of powerful men twice her age.

Mrs. Barnell, the widowed owner of Bay Point Bed & Breakfast, was at the counter fussing over her daily floral arrangement. She always had a fresh bouquet in the foyer of her establishment, and even though Vanessa offered to deliver it right to her door, she insisted on picking it up herself. Vanessa suspected the woman was lonely.

“These California poppies are just gorgeous, don’t you think?”

Vanessa barely heard Mrs. Barnell’s question, so focused was she on Gregory, who was now standing a foot or so behind the elderly woman.

He swept the hat from his head, a careless gesture that also managed to seem purposeful at the same time. It made her knees feel brittle, even though she was standing perfectly straight, and she grasped the edge of the counter to maintain her balance.

“I agree. Utterly gorgeous.”

Vanessa parted her lips in shock. Instinctively, she knew that hidden in Gregory’s seemingly offhand response was something meant to be discovered by her alone, though she had no way of proving it. In the confines of the small room, his deep bass seemed like a hum, both sustaining and drawing energy, and the vibrations from his tone played low and pleasurably in her belly.

His hazel eyes held hers in a way he had no right to do, and a buzz of heat rose in her cheeks. She discreetly swallowed and her insides lit up, kindled by his intense gaze. It was clear that his comment had nothing to do with California poppies and, strangely, everything to do with her.

Mrs. Barnell turned and her mouth dropped open. “Mayor Langston! I was so busy fooling with these flowers that I didn’t hear you come in,” she gushed, her smile warm and genuine.

Vanessa’s heart beat faster as Gregory approached the counter. He rested one palm on the glass, not too far from her hand, and cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, ladies.”

“No need to apologize, Mayor,” Mrs. Barnell insisted brightly. She patted her silver-laden black hair. The style, though outdated, was attractive on her and reminded Vanessa of an ’80s soap opera where the women were catty and mean.

But Mrs. Barnell wasn’t anything like those characters. She was softhearted and kind. Still, her face virtually beamed in the presence of Bay Point’s most esteemed political official. It made Vanessa want to gag.

“Right, dear?”

She forced a tight smile. “Absolutely not. What can I do for you, Mayor? As you can see, I’m with a customer.”

Vanessa hated to sound so impersonal. Maisie was more than a customer; she was a good friend. But for some reason, she found it exasperating that Maisie was being so nice to the mayor, that she was being the only person she knew how to be. Didn’t the woman realize he was trying to destroy Bay Point?

Gregory smiled, his teeth gleaming white and perfect behind lips that held untold secrets.

“I need an arrangement, and I know you’re the best florist in town.”

Vanessa ignored the flush of heat that spawned in her cheeks and began tying a large purple gingham bow around the vase in front of her. In addition to California poppies, the bouquet held a collection of white roses, baby’s breath and leafy sprigs of fresh ferns. She inhaled lightly—the fragrance seemed to infuse her troubled spirit.

So he didn’t like flowers, but he wanted a bouquet for someone else. She hoped that Maisie, who was often nosy, would inquire who the lucky woman was. But to her disappointment, she didn’t.

“As long as it’s not like mine,” Mrs. Barnell insisted. “Vanessa makes these special for me, and they’re different every day. She is truly a gifted artist.”

Vanessa felt Gregory’s eyes trace the length of her shoulder-length dark brown hair. Goose pimples broke out on her arms under his careful inspection. She’d recently splurged at the salon and had her stylist add golden-brown highlights. She loved her new look. When he lifted his brow slightly, she knew he did, too. That pleased her, although she didn’t know why, and she almost smiled with satisfaction.

He laid his fedora on the counter, stirring the air just enough to softly tickle the fine hairs on her arms.

“I agree, Mrs. Barnell—she’s one of Bay Point’s greatest treasures.”

Vanessa narrowed her eyes again slightly and tightened the bow with a dull snap.

Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t we, Mayor?

There was an awkward pause, and it seemed as though Gregory wanted to say more. His towering presence so close to her, with only the counter between them, was distracting in a way she didn’t understand.

Vanessa sniffed lightly. Unless her sensitive nose was failing her at the moment, Gregory seemed to be wearing no cologne, and she almost sighed with relief. The musk of male skin was far more pleasing and would require a more careful inspection of him than discreetness would allow. She blushed at the thought, and the glass felt oddly warm against her lower abdomen as she braced herself against it.

Yet Mrs. Barnell didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong, and Vanessa was grateful when she slipped her purse over one arm. She turned and regarded Vanessa.

“That’s beautiful, dear. I’ll be on my way now.”

Maisie’s toffee-colored skin was a striking contrast to the milky-white vase as she clasped her veined hands around it.

“Need any help with that?” Gregory offered.

Mrs. Barnell shook her head. “These flowers and the walk I take every day to get here are the reasons I’m still active. After my husband, Frank, died...”

Her voice faded away, and she seemed lost in her thoughts. A few seconds later, she straightened her shoulders and looked Gregory up and down.

“It’s a shame you’re not married.”

Vanessa’s mouth dropped open slightly at Mrs. Barnell’s remark.

Anyone overhearing the conversation and who didn’t know her would probably think Maisie was just some old busybody handing out commentary nobody wanted to hear on matters that were none of her business.

But Vanessa knew better. The woman was the unofficial matriarch of Bay Point. Locals deemed anything she said either wacky or wise. Despite her eccentric personality, Mrs. Barnell was well respected in the community.

Gregory dropped his hands and smiled patiently, as if he wasn’t at all shocked at her question.

“Right now I think the town needs me more than I need a wife.”

Mrs. Barnell nodded. “That we do, Mayor,” she agreed, a trace of wistfulness in her voice. She glanced down at the flowers. “But without love, even the most beautiful things can wither away and die.”

Vanessa stepped around the counter and said nothing, refusing to let the old woman’s words infiltrate her heart. She knew what it was like to live without love, and she was surviving just fine. It was when she was in love that she felt as if she were dying.

As she guided Maisie the short distance to the door, Gregory followed, as though he were afraid neither woman would make it. While she appreciated his consideration, it felt like an imposition, too. She wasn’t used to a man like him looking out for her, at least not without wanting something in return.

She kept her eyes focused on the store window, where the name of her beloved shop, Blooms in Paradise, was gracefully scripted in frosted white letters on the glass. She opened the front door and a mildly warm breeze, tinged around the edges with the chill of an impending storm, rushed into the room.

“It looks and feels like it’s going to rain any second,” said Mrs. Barnell, her teeth chattering slightly. “I’d better hurry.”

Vanessa stuck her head outside. “It certainly does. Give me a call when you get home so I know you arrived safely.”

When her friend was gone, she swiftly closed the door. The bell was still tinkling as she flipped the small plastic sign over from Open to Closed.

Vanessa took a deep breath before turning and brushing past Gregory, and she could feel his eyes on her back. It warmed and seared her most pleasurably, spine to calves, making her want to run away, a sensory danger sign.

She stopped in front of the two refrigerated cases that protected and displayed her inventory of flowers. Without turning, words tumbled out as if she were in a hurry, even though she had all the time in the world.

“What sort of arrangement do you need, Mayor? If you want something simple, I can put it together for you now. If you want something special, I can have it delivered tomorrow.”

She opened the door of one of the cases. The rush of air seemed unusually cold. As she reached in and switched off the fluorescent light for the evening, her nipples hardened.

Vanessa knew she should have worn a padded bra underneath her outfit, but the sheer one was the only one in her collection that was clean. Besides, she’d opened the doors of her flower cases countless times all day, and her breasts had never reacted so obviously before.

Stepping back, Vanessa shut the door and watched his reflection morph in the glass, flattening and changing before her very eyes.

“I don’t need flowers, Ms. Hamilton. I need a favor.”

Disappointment lodged in her throat. I knew it. At the same time, she was oddly euphoric that he wasn’t there to buy flowers for another woman.

She quickly turned to face him, her navy maxi skirt swishing around her slim legs and calves.

Gregory’s eyes dropped to her cowl-neck blouse. Even with a quick glance down, she could see that the white silky fabric had tented ever so slightly around her nipples.

Her head snapped up and so did his glance, and she blushed.

It’s not him. It’s the cold air! she told herself.

Though her cheeks burned hot and his lips curved into a playful smile, she brazenly refused to cross her arms and instead placed her hands on her hips. She didn’t want him to know she was embarrassed by what he saw, and yet she didn’t want to cover up, either.

“What kind of favor? If it’s a bodyguard you need, clearly that’s not my expertise,” she replied, forking a thumb to the case behind her.

“I would imagine that the thorns of a rose would make a pretty good weapon,” Gregory replied, and then laughed. “Besides, why would I need a bodyguard?”

She stared at him in disbelief. “I read the Courier this morning. The whole town is talking, especially the people who own businesses along Ocean Avenue.”

He clasped his hands behind him, turned and walked to the window. “Ah yes, the downtown redevelopment project. And what are the people saying?”

“That you’ve back-ended them. That you’ve put the wheels in motion without any input from the people your plan will be affecting the most.”

Gregory heeled around, unclasped his hands and held them palm open against his chest.

“There’s been talk about redeveloping downtown for years. I’m only doing what my predecessor always wanted to do but could never seem to get done.”

Vanessa shook her head in disgust, opened the second flower case and turned out the lights. Under Gregory’s watchful eyes, the refrigerated air in the case seemed even chillier now. Her nipples tightened painfully beneath the silk of her bra, but she no longer cared.

Her spirit drew strength from the colorful blooms, reminding her of what was important.

Protecting her livelihood. That was what mattered.

She closed the door, sealing the air and the flowers for the night. “Passing the buck of blame? Watch it, Mayor Langston,” she warned icily, her breath misting against the glass. “You’re starting to sound like a politician.”

Vanessa saw his reflection move toward her, so she abruptly turned and went behind the counter, grateful for the barrier between them.

Gregory approached and raised an eyebrow. “Mrs. Barnell didn’t mention one word about the redevelopment. If anyone would have anything to say, it would be her.”

Vanessa stabbed at the buttons on her cash register until the drawer opened. “Maisie is a kind, decent-hearted woman. Sadly, she has too much respect for you to call you out on what is a sorely misguided plan.”

Gregory chuckled, rankling her nerves. “Revitalizing Bay Point’s downtown to make it more attractive for everyone is a misguided plan?”

“Don’t oversimplify things, Mayor,” she snapped, narrowing her eyes. “You’re going to tear down some of our beautiful historic downtown buildings and replace them with ugly, tacky condos.”

“Lifestyle centers,” he corrected.

“Strip malls and overpriced plywood boxes,” she shot back. “Both completely devoid of any structural beauty.”

“No, Vanessa,” Gregory replied in a slow and even tone. “Gorgeous contemporary living spaces where residents have access to everything they need.”

Instead of replying, she shook her head and quickly counted the cash and coins in the drawer. Then she grabbed her ledger book from underneath the counter and notated the amount.

Focusing on the task at hand, before too long she’d added up her profit for the day, and she stuffed the cash plus a few checks into a zippered leather envelope. As soon as Gregory left, she was going to walk down to the bank and deposit the meager amount. Then she was going to go home, take a hot bath and try to forget that he was ever here.

“It sounds like a jail to me,” she said finally, not looking up at the man.

Gregory cleared his throat. “People want modern amenities and a home with an ocean view,” he explained with smooth calmness. “Now they’ll get both in Bay Point.”

She lifted her eyes and sniffed in annoyance. “Yeah, for a price. You know, most people around here can’t afford their own home, let alone buying a new one.”

“There will be tax-abatement incentives that will help,” he insisted. “And we’re partnering with banks that will be willing to lend with little to no down payment.”

“It’s not enough. And it will never work,” she replied with a vehemence that made her proud and sad at the same time. She normally wasn’t a negative person. Politicians, even gorgeous ones, seemed to bring out the worst in her.

“It will work,” he insisted. “With your help, that is. I want you to be my campaign manager.”

She slammed the cash drawer closed, and it felt as if her heart had jumped off a cliff. Although she and Gregory had grown up in the same town, she didn’t even know the man, and now he wanted her at his side?

“You must be joking.”

Her words came out clipped, but it felt as though they were spoken through mud. Gregory placed both palms on the counter. “I assure you, I’m not.”

Vanessa’s throat tightened almost painfully, and she could have drowned in the confident intensity of his hazel eyes.

“And I can assure you that I’m not interested.”

Gregory took a step back. “Really? I’m surprised. Your father told me that flowers are not your only talent. You also have a knack for public relations, and you’ve been especially successful helping politicians in a crisis, I hear.”

Vanessa’s stomach burned with resentment. Her father had no business talking to the mayor about her, but she’d deal with him later.

In Gregory’s voice, she heard no trace of disdain, and that was good. There were only two people who knew the sordid details of her stint in political public relations, and that was the way it would remain. She was a pro at hiding the secrets of powerful and successful men, and even better at hiding her own.

Vanessa tilted her head. “Oh, so you’re admitting your reelection campaign is in trouble?”

“Not trouble,” he insisted, lifting one finger. “Just a bit of a rough spot.”

She broached a wry smile. “I’d say you’re at the top of a raging waterfall about to crash to the rocks below.”

Gregory leaned in closer. “I like to live dangerously,” he murmured in a low voice.

At his words, her pulse raced anew, chasing something elusive and sensual.

She was relieved when he stepped away from the counter and peered into one of the refrigerated cases.

“How’s business been lately?”

It sucks, she thought as she took a sip from her water bottle. But she wasn’t going to tell him that. Had he seen the ledger? She wished she’d waited until he was gone to count the cash drawer.

“Steady. I can’t complain.”

That much was true. Between her walk-in customers, internet orders and those from the hospital, Blooms in Paradise was just breaking even. She hadn’t had a paycheck in months, though, so she was teaching a floral design class at a community college the next town over just to make ends meet. Still, the bills were piling up with no end in sight, and her emergency savings account was almost tapped out.

“Steady,” he repeated to the glass. “That’s good, but growth is even better.”

“At least it’s reliable,” she retorted, and thought she saw his shoulders twitch back.

She hadn’t meant her words to be a slam against him, but when she quickly thought about it, maybe she did. Why couldn’t he just let things in Bay Point stay the same? Sure, things were rough now, but the economy was on the upswing. People would start shopping and eating downtown again. Tourists would rediscover Bay Point’s charm.

Wouldn’t they?

Vanessa squeezed her bottle of water until the plastic crunched loudly. Gregory faced her and opened his mouth, but no words came out.

She felt her blood pressure rise and readied herself for an argument, but he simply turned and walked over to the window.

From where she stood, she knew he was looking at Lucy’s Bar and Grille. Located directly across the street from her shop, it was the only remaining restaurant on downtown Ocean Avenue. All the others had either closed or moved somewhere else.

Gregory chuckled, the sound strangely poignant. “When I was little, my father and I had dinner at Lucy’s often, especially when my mom was in Washington trying to drum up support for her latest cause.”

“She was a lobbyist, correct?”

“She still is.” He nodded, his back ramrod straight. “Anyway, most nights it was so crowded the only reason we got a seat was because we always had a reserved table.”

He turned to Vanessa, and his expression was difficult for her to read.

“I guess it pays to be one of the richest families in town,” she mused.

His eyes found hers, and she was surprised at the whisper of guilt that crossed his face.

“Those were the good old days,” he said, as if he didn’t hear her.

Vanessa skirted around the counter, hoping to put an end to his walk down memory lane. Sometimes the past wasn’t meant to be revisited—it was meant to be forgotten.

“What are you talking about? The Langstons are still one of the wealthiest families in Bay Point. Nothing has changed for you.”

She faced him, folding her arms across her chest. Her body was still heated, but not from desire, from anger.

“If you’re so concerned with memories, what about the Bay Point Carousel?” she accused. “Don’t you know what it means to the community?”

He didn’t answer, but a scowl crossed his face, and she wondered why.

“The carousel is part of our town’s history,” she continued. “You can’t tear it down!”

He turned and leaned against the counter. “I have to do what I think is best for Bay Point.”

Her heart sank, but she remained undeterred. “Are you looking for a vote of approval for your plan? Because you don’t have mine, and you never will.”

He stared at her a moment, and she thought she saw a flash of hurt in his eyes.

“You don’t have to agree with the redevelopment. I just need you to help me convince everyone else in Bay Point. Despite what you think, I am trying to make things better.”

His earnestness almost made Vanessa believe him. But she knew from past experience that guys like him, with their good looks and charm, could suck the heart and independence from a woman. He’d do the very same thing to Bay Point.

“By destroying the legacy of the place you and I grew up in?” she railed. “Somehow I missed that part of your campaign speech, and so did the rest of the town.”

His eyes widened slightly, and he picked up his hat from the counter. She thought he was going to put it on and leave, but then he put it down again.

“Like the carousel, many of the homes are dilapidated and in need of repair. They’re an eyesore on the community.”

The determination in his voice, measured and even, tried to convince her of the practicality of his statement. It also appeared to be a veiled warning that there was no way she could change his mind.

“Those ‘eyesores’ have been in the respective owners’ families and in this community for generations,” Vanessa countered.

She crossed her arms, determined to be just as practical and just as stubborn. “Now you’re going to raze them, and you expect me to help you? Get real, Mayor.”

Gregory moved toward her. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

He touched her shoulder with one fingertip. She jumped back in surprise, but it was too late. The brief contact had already leached a single pulse of fire into her bare skin.

“Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it.”

“You’ll want to hear this.”

She found it hard to avoid his eyes, so gentle yet commanding attention.

“You remember when we used to play together, right? When we were kids?”

“It was one time, Mayor. Just once.”

“Right. Anyway, remember how we were making mud patties in the back of your grandma’s yard?” he continued, a grin on his face. “I’d water the dirt, and you’d stir it all together with a stick until the ground turned all wet and gooey. Then we’d take our shoes off, step in and squish the mud between our toes. And you’d laugh and laugh.”

“Yeah, so?” she replied, keeping her expression and her tone light.

His lips curved up. “Whether or not you decide to manage my campaign, I’d pay any price to see you smile like that again.”

Her stomach dropped as if she’d just plummeted over a steep hill, yet she managed to ignore the feeling. She brushed past him and opened the door of her shop.

“Leave and I’ll smile for free.”

Gregory turned back to the counter and grabbed his hat. Her eyes settled on the collar of his crisp white shirt, his trim waist and then his pants, which fit nicely over his backside.

He stopped in front of her. When he slid his hat onto his head, it took everything in her power not to take a step back. Though her feet remained rooted to the floor, she felt drawn to him, like a young seedling yearning toward the sky. She could wilt like a flower against him—probably lots of women could and did, but not her.

“Too bad I won’t be around to see it,” he said softly.

Gregory looked into her eyes, and once again she found it difficult to look away.

“Come on, Vanessa. You remember what Bay Point used to be like when we were in school.”

She sniffed. “I barely knew you then, and I don’t know you now. So don’t even act like we were friends, Mayor.”

Gregory laughed. “You act as though we Langstons were kings and everyone else in Bay Point were our serfs. You know that’s not true. Your father was, and still is, a well-respected physician. You certainly weren’t poor,” he pointed out.

“Leave my father—and my family—out of this.”

The frostiness in her tone was unwarranted, and she knew Gregory wasn’t accusing her. Still, his statement galled her. Her family might not have been poor, but they also never had the air of entitlement cloaked around them that the Langston family always had. Or at least, Gregory’s mother and father.

Gregory’s expression sobered again as he plucked one of the red roses from the fresh bouquet she always kept by the door.

“Look, neither of us have any control over our backgrounds, but together you and I could bring back the magic of Bay Point.”

He ran the barely open bud along her jawline, arousing her tender skin until it felt as if it were on fire. She bit the inside of her lip as the heady scent wafted toward her nose, seeming to swirl like a dervish around her head.

“Think about my offer, Vanessa. You won’t regret it.”

Gregory gently tapped the bud on her chin, just once. It was enough to make her throat go dry and wish it were his lips.

He bowed slightly and left, taking the rose with him.

She locked the door, then carefully gathered up the remaining roses and walked over to the refrigerated case. One by one, she placed the stems inside an empty vase. When she was finished, she closed the door and placed her palm against the glass.

She stared at the bouquet of roses. Twelve had become eleven, and she felt as though she’d lost some kind of intimate battle. A war within herself—a war she was tired of fighting.

“We can’t live in the past, Gregory,” she said softly, her warm breath misting against the glass. “But we can’t completely erase it, either.”

Ever since she was a child, she’d always felt safe in the garden. Or now as an adult in her shop. Tending to her flowers. As if they could hide her from anyone, protect her from anything. Help her to remember. Make her forget.

That time was gone. So was her sense of security.

When, Vanessa wondered sadly, had everything changed?

Chapter 3

At 8:00 a.m. the next morning, Gregory angled his car into an empty parking spot on Ocean Avenue in front of city hall and slowly got out. He half expected an angry mob to be waiting there to carry him off to the gallows. But except for a few seagulls strutting about as if the world owed them a meal, the wide stone steps were empty.

He slammed the door, exhaling a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding. Clutching his briefcase, he quickly jogged up the stairs, sending the birds squawking and scattering into the cool salty air.

His eyes crinkled behind his sunglasses. How could Vanessa have turned down his offer to be his campaign manager? He still couldn’t believe it, nor could he believe how much she’d changed physically.

Back when he was a prepubescent nine-year-old, somewhere in his psyche, where he involuntarily noticed these things because he was a boy and she was a girl, Gregory had thought she was cute. Yucky, but cute. She liked making mud pies, and that was beyond cool.

But somewhere along the way, when he was off at college and then working at his father’s law firm, she’d grown up to be beautiful. A fact that he’d always known, since he saw her from a distance around Bay Point quite often. Her flower shop was only a few minutes on foot from city hall. However, he’d never truly realized how absolutely stunning she was until yesterday, when he was in the same room with her.

It was everything—her lustrous brown hair, streaked in gold, the hint of the curve of her breasts, the innocent pucker of her nipples covered by the silky fabric of her blouse and the long legs well hidden beneath her skirt, which might as well have been a nun’s habit.

His groin tightened painfully again, as it had been doing ever since last night each time he thought about her.

Vanessa Hamilton was as dangerous to his career as raising property taxes, but she was also necessary to it. He’d spent a long, restless night attempting to figure out a way to change her mind. Instead he’d awoken with a massive hard-on and no solid ideas.

The shouts and screams of toddlers broke through his yawn-sodden thoughts. He turned around and frowned.

Directly across from city hall, the Bay Point Carousel beckoned him like an aging beauty. “Ride me! Ride me!” it seemed to urge. Although the paint on the horses was dull and chipped, the mirrors cracked and the jewels dusty and worn, the carousel held an undeniable fire of mystery. One that he was happy to extinguish. So much so that razing the carousel was in phase one of his downtown redevelopment plan.

He shook his head, recalling how Vanessa had gotten all bent out of shape that he was going to tear the ancient structure down. Although he didn’t know for sure, the carousel seemed to be more to her than just a relic of Bay Point’s history. A small part of him wanted to know why, but the other part of him couldn’t wait to get rid of the town’s “legacy,” which held nothing but bad memories for him.

Besides, politics always trumped preservation. Everybody knew that, he told himself, and promptly dismissed the guilt that suddenly bubbled within him from out of nowhere. The carousel would be replaced with a beautiful garden, a contemporary fountain and green spaces that would be free of insurance liability issues and high maintenance costs.

“Everyone’s going to love it, including Vanessa!” he muttered to himself. With or without her, somehow he’d have to convince the citizens of Bay Point that his plan was the right thing to do.

He turned away and entered the building through the revolving doors. The cool air engulfed him, and he shivered a little as he nodded at the security guard. Then he took the elevator to the fourth floor, where his office was located.

“Good morning, Mariella.”

“Morning, Mayor.” She jerked a thumb toward his open door. “Mr. Stodwell is here to see you, and he’s in your office.” She dropped her voice low. “I’m sorry. I told him that you prefer visitors to wait out here, but he ignored me and barged right in.”

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “How was soccer practice?”

Mariella’s face beamed with surprise. “Great. It was only a scrimmage match, but Josh scored his first goal of the season!”

“That’s great. Maybe he’s another Beckham in the works, and we’ll finally have a winning team in Bay Point.” He put his fingers to his lips. “But don’t tell Coach Perkins I said so, because he thinks the only ball that should be in play in this town is a football.”

Mariella giggled. “Your secret is safe with me. There’s fresh coffee. Want some?”

“How many cups has Mr. Stodwell had?”

Mariella held up two fingers, and he shook his head. “Then I’d better ace this one alone—without the help of caffeine.”

Gregory opened his office door. Mr. Stodwell gestured toward the window with his coffee cup. “Those kids out there. Where do they get their energy?”

Gregory laid his briefcase on his desk and snapped it open, revealing the rose from Vanessa’s shop. He’d forgotten he’d put it there, and he quickly closed the briefcase before Stodwell spotted it. He still didn’t know why he’d kept the now-wilted bud, other than the fact that the petals had once touched her skin. He wished it had been his fingers instead.

“I’m sure the sugar fixes don’t help,” Gregory offered.

Ruby’s Tasty Pastries, located on the other side of Ocean Avenue and across from the carousel, was known for its doughnuts that were shaped like lions, tigers and bears for kids, and other rich, butter-laden delights for adults. The organic coffee and beverages were also quite popular among the townspeople.

Mr. Stodwell grunted and patted his belly. “Ruby’s doughnuts just make me even fatter. But I love them and eat them anyway.”

He took a handkerchief out of his front pocket. Like a cold glass of water in the hot sun, the man always seemed to be perspiring. He wiped his brow before plopping his large frame down on the wooden chair in front of Gregory’s desk.

Gregory sat down, and as usual, his chair squeaked noisily. He couldn’t wait until the new city hall was built. The first thing he was going to do was buy a new chair. Until then, to save costs, he put up with the old one.

“I don’t think we had a meeting scheduled, but now that you’re here, I have to tell you how disappointed I and the rest of the planning commission were to see the news about the redevelopment project in the Bay Point Courier yesterday.”

Mr. Stodwell shrugged. “I called in a few favors—so what?” he replied, sounding quite pleased with himself. “Besides, it’s not like folks didn’t know that this was coming. Small towns run on rumors like these.”

Gregory wrinkled his brow in annoyance. “I thought we’d talked about waiting to announce the redevelopment plan until I’d had a chance to discuss the proposal with the stakeholders.”

Stodwell coughed, and a bit of coffee sloshed on his shirt, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“What’s the big deal? Now the news is out and in the open. Folks that have businesses downtown know that their time is almost up. Bay Point, as we know it now, will be forever changed.”

Gregory abruptly stood and leaned over his desk. “The big deal,” he replied curtly, “is that you blindsided me. And now the town thinks I blindsided them.”

Including Vanessa.

“I grew up with some of the people affected. Need I remind you that I am up for reelection in a few months?”

Stodwell shrugged. “I don’t see the problem. You own the land. You have all the cards here.”

“The city owns the land,” Gregory corrected. “Not me.”

“Minor detail,” Stodwell said, waving two fingers. “Anyway, I’ve got some good news.”

He paused and swabbed his handkerchief over his cheeks. “I’m ready to sell the buildings I own downtown to you—I mean the city of Bay Point.”

Gregory raised his eyebrows in surprise. Stodwell had been on the fence for months about releasing his properties, even though Gregory had hinted that the city might be interested in purchasing them. Now it looked as though they would get the chance.

“That’s good to hear. You own most of the buildings alongside Ocean Avenue, except for a few owned by Mrs. Barnell. Why did you decide to sell now?”

Although his buildings were old, they were still valuable. If the downtown redevelopment plan was as successful as Gregory hoped it would be, the buildings and the land they sat on would eventually be worth tens of millions of dollars.

Stodwell edged his body forward. “It’s the right time for me, and for the city.”

Gregory nodded. The man was right. If the city owned the buildings outright, it would make the redevelopment process a whole lot easier.

Stodwell leaned back in his chair. “Besides, some of my tenants haven’t paid rent on time, or at all, in months. Because of that, I can’t make repairs or upgrade the buildings or the apartments upstairs.”

“Why didn’t you ever sue the tenants for the money?”

“Are you kidding?” Stodwell widened his eyes in mock horror. “I gotta live here, too, Mayor. I could have shook ’em down for the money, but that’s not my style.”

Gregory barely held back a smirk. “So now you want us to do it, is that right?”

Stodwell opened both palms, his grin like a swath of grease on his tanned face. “I have to assume if they’re not paying me, they’re not paying the city, either. Am I right?”

Gregory frowned and didn’t respond. As in most cities, businesses had to pay a yearly tax to operate in Bay Point, although some exemptions did apply.

Six months ago, he’d had an independent audit conducted of Bay Point’s finances. The third-party firm had discovered that there was nearly a quarter of a million dollars in unpaid business taxes that were not in the city’s coffers, which was one reason why the city was in a financial mess.

“Once the city owns all the properties, you can call a lien on each one of them.” Stodwell clapped his hands. “Problem solved.”

Gregory immediately thought of Vanessa. “I can’t do that. There has to be a better solution.”

Stodwell shrugged. “Threaten eviction, and people suddenly get very creative about paying up.”

Gregory held back a gasp. Throw his fellow residents out on the streets? He could never live with himself. He’d grown up with most of the store owners.

It would be difficult enough collecting back taxes from them. In light of the economy and the lack of tourists, Stodwell’s business tenants were having a hard time staying profitable. How would they come up with the extra money for back taxes and rent increases? He could never evict them.

“Neither I nor the city is willing to go that far,” he said firmly. “Besides, it’s—”

“Election time. I know.”

Stodwell slurped down the rest of his coffee and set it on the desk.

“You need me, Gregory. And I need...a very nice retirement. I am willing to sell the properties to the city. If you don’t want to deal with them, sell them to the developer.”

“I’m not even sure if he’d be willing to buy them,” Gregory said.

“That’ll be your problem, not mine.” Stodwell twisted a wide gold ring on his finger. “I left a report with your assistant of how much is owed to me by various tenants. Obviously, those monies will be included in the selling price, which the city can recoup however, and whenever, it wishes.”

Gregory thought for a moment. “I need time to review everything and discuss it with city council.”

“You have sixty days.”

Gregory quickly glanced down at his desk calendar.

Stodwell grinned. “Don’t worry. The deadline falls after the election. I’m doing you a favor, Mayor. I could sell outright to the developer.” He lifted his hands and shrugged. “Though I’d make far less money on the deal because—”

“They would be less likely to buy at your asking price because of all the repairs that need to be done,” Gregory concluded.

“Exactly. When I realized that you intended to keep most of the downtown buildings intact, that’s when I made the decision to sell and get out now, while I could still make a little bit of profit, and the city can still make good use of them.”

Gregory nodded, even though Stodwell’s comment irked him. He knew the man didn’t care a bit about Bay Point. He was just out to make a fast buck, and it was up to Gregory to make sure that he wasn’t going to do it at Bay Point’s expense.

“We’ll have to see if we can work your buildings into the development and construction schedule,” Gregory reasoned.

“Are you still going to tear the carousel down first?”

“Yes, plus, a few other buildings will be razed to make way for new condos and town houses, as part of the multiuse lifestyle center that will be built. The rest will remain, and the exteriors will be renovated. If the city buys your properties, we can perhaps schedule the renovations in phase two.”

Stodwell nodded. “This redevelopment idea of yours. It’s a good plan, Mayor. One that will far outlive you and me combined. I urge you and city council to consider my offer.”

Gregory leaned his hip against his desk. “I can’t guarantee that we will be able to purchase the properties at the price you want. I have to be mindful of the budget.”

“All I can do is ask, Mayor. If we can’t do a deal, I’m sure the developer will be interested in this opportunity. But if he buys it, you’d lose some measure of control over what happens with the buildings, other than what’s covered under existing commercial zoning regulations, of course.”

Gregory’s heart suddenly constricted in his chest. Stodwell owned the building that Vanessa’s flower shop was in, as well as Lucy’s Bar and Grille and some others in the same block. He knew the day was coming when he’d have to oversee the collection process of all the past-due business taxes, and he was dreading it. Plus, he knew that city council would likely want to raise rents to help cover the costs of purchasing Stodwell’s commercial properties.

Both would drastically affect his popularity with Bay Point voters.

“I just want to be sure that the residents and store owners will not suffer undue harm. I wanted to gain their trust before—”

Stodwell held up a pudgy hand. “Wait a minute. They elected you the mayor of Bay Point. You already earned their trust four years ago.”

“And I don’t want to lose it, either.”

The man laughed. “You’ve got a lot of things to learn about politics, son.”

“That may be so, but how to piss off my constituency is not one of them.”

“When they see the end result, they won’t be mad. In fact, I’m willing to bet that they’ll thank you.” Stodwell paused a moment. “Need I remind you of the donation made to your campaign by my company?”

Gregory clenched his stomach muscles in disgust. He hated being made to feel as if he could be bought. It was the one thing he despised about politics.

“Your support is graciously appreciated.”

Stodwell stood. “You know, Gregory, your father and I go back a long ways. It would be a shame if you lost this election.”

“I don’t plan on losing,” he said, forcing his tone to be relaxed.

He watched Stodwell wrest his chubby arms into his too-small suit jacket, a visual reminder of the dangers of eating too many doughnuts.

“Well, Mayor. I’m glad to hear you’re so confident. But sometimes the best-laid plans have a quirky way of going awry.”

The two men shook hands.

“I’ll be in touch,” Gregory said, and closed the door behind him.

He walked over to the window, pressed his forehead against the glass and stared down at the carousel. The damn thing never worked now, but it ran fine when he was a kid.

Back when he dreamed about riding it. When he thought just one ride would make his well-to-do family normal, not a constant source of envy or gossip.

He turned away from the window and punched the intercom button. “Mariella, please bring me the list of people who owe commercial-business-related taxes.”

When he’d originally received the list several weeks ago, he hadn’t paid very close attention to the names on it.

Now there was one name he hoped he wouldn’t see: Vanessa’s.

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